


Markiplier x Fluid!Reader: Thanks For Understanding

by KingOfHearts709



Series: Gender [7]
Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: F/M, FTM, Fluff, Genderfluid, M/M, Mark Fischbach - Freeform, Oppression, binder, deal w/it, markipliergame, markplier, yeah im genderfluid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:33:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one seems to understand who you are. Is there anyone out there who will accept you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Markiplier x Fluid!Reader: Thanks For Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> This is for all the genderfluid and genderqueers out there! You are valid and I love you! As a fluid person, I took this off of my own experiences. If you're not fluid and reading this without knowing what it is, hopefully you might understand a little better about what it's like to be fluid or even slightly genderqueer. xoxo

"So...what are you?" the cashier behind the counter asked.  
"Uh...," you said, hesitating to say anything. "I'm a girl. Today." He chuckled.  
"You don't have boobs."  
"I like to cover them up. With a binder." He laughed again.  
"So, what, you're, like, a transgender? You know that's not a real thing, right?"  
"I'm not trans. I'm...genderfluid."  
"What's that supposed to be? Are you water?"  
"No. I just... I'm a boy and a girl, but not at the same time."  
"Oh, give me a break. You can't be both, you've got to choose. But you can't be a boy anyways. You don't have any junk."  
You were on the verge of punching this guy in the throat.  
"I can be whomever and whatever I want," you pressed, your uncomfortability rising at an alarming rate.  
"Says whom?" the cashier laughed sarcastically.  
"Me. And lots of other people, too."  
"Sure, they do." You sighed.  
"Can I just have my change back, please?"  
"I don't know if I want to give money to a queer."  
That was it. You didn't punch him, you knew better than to start fights with people you knew you couldn't win against. You just picked up your soda and stormed out. You walked to your car angrily and opened the door, sitting inside and slamming it back shut.  
You screamed.  
"Okay, first things first," you said to yourself, "I'm genderfluid. Today I was a girl. That doesn't make my boy mode invalid. So I was born female, who cares? Oh, who am I kidding, everyone and their God damn mother cares." You looked through your window to see another woman at the cash register inside the corner store, most likely being chatted up by the douche behind the counter. She grinned, but you could tell, even from there, that she just wanted to leave. A man was inside, too, and you could tell he was also uncomfortable being in the store.  
Had he been in there during the argument? You sincerely hoped not. You felt claustrophobic sitting in your car, shifting back and forth. You stepped out and to the side out of view from the cashier's sight. You took a big gulp of soda as you watched the woman walk out, who was now a lot quicker to getting back in her car than usual. The man who was inside walked out carrying nothing except a couple dollars. He probably decided not to buy anything.  
"Uh, sorry, but is this yours?" he asked, walking towards you suddenly. You stared at him.  
"Um...," you began, but stopped. "I don't know."  
"I was in the store. I heard the whole...thing, and told him to give me the change for you. He was actually pretty pissy about it, but I didn't really care."  
"Um... Why?"  
"Well...because it's not fair to you."  
"Why me, though? Why not that woman that walked out after me?"  
"Because she seemed like she knew what she was doing. And you were... I don't want to say helpless. More like...you weren't sure what to do." You nodded.  
"Well, that's spot on," you chuckled. He have a half-smirk.  
"So... Here." He handed you the couple dollars, which you stuffed into your pocket. "Uh, maybe it's a little bit weird to ask a stranger, but do you, like, want to hang out?" You furrowed your brows.  
"Why?"  
"'Cause you seem pretty cool." You shrugged.  
"Sure. When?" The man looked at his phone.  
"Like... Tomorrow-ish?"  
"Ish?"  
"Soon-ish?" You laughed a little bit.  
"Soon-ish sounds good." You twisted a couple times to reach into your back pocket for a pen. "Here, I'll write my cell on your palm so you can text me."  
"But... Can't I just put it in my phone?" You shook your head, writing on his skin before pulling back.  
"It's no fun that way. Uh, what's your name?"  
"Mark. You?"  
"Well, it's pretty unisex, so it shouldn't be hard to remember. (UN)." The man, now Mark, nodded cheerfully.  
"Awesome name. Uh... I'll text you!" You nodded. Mark walked away towards what must've been his car as he waved. You waved back as he took off before you did so a few minutes later.  
Mark texted you later that night his address and to hang out around noon. You grinned as you slipped into bed and fell asleep.  
Buzz.  
"Mm...," you mumbled.  
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz, buzz.  
"Ugh, what?" you asked no one, sitting up in bed and grabbing your phone.  
Mark: You up?  
Mark: You better be awake.  
Mark: (UN)! UP NOW!!  
Mark: PLEEEASE?  
Mark: I HAVE COOKIES AND YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY UNLESS YOU WAKE UP NOW  
"Oh, crap!" you yelled, looking at the time. It was already 11:47 am, and you were going to be with Mark in about 13... No, 12 minutes. You flew out of bed, disoriented as you scrambled for clothes.  
Boy today. You grabbed your looser jeans, binder, and T-shirt and slipped them on, along with your flat-bill cap. Some tennis-shoes and you'd be good. A knock sounded at your door.  
"Crapballs," you cursed. You rushed to open it, revealing Mark on the other side.  
"Someone finally woke up!" he joked. You rolled your eyes.  
"What, a guy can't sleep in?" you asked.  
"Sure he can. Just not when someone's coming to pick up said guy." You let out a breath and went to grab your phone before following Mark out to his car. As you sat there on the way to his house, it was silent for a few moments.  
"Hey, Mark?" you asked.  
"What's up?" he replied.  
"Are you uncomfortable hanging out with a... You know, a genderfluid person?" Mark shrugged.  
"I don't know. I've never hung out with one." He rolled his neck. "I mean, I know what it is. Mostly 'cause I looked it up last night. But so far, I think I can handle someone who changes genders. I mean, I can tell the difference." You grinned a little.  
"You looked up the definition?"  
"I guess I thought, like, if I'm going to hang out with you, I should know what you want to be and what it means. So I don't, like, diss you by accident without knowing."  
"Why are you so chill with it? 'Cause everyone else is a serious asshole."  
"Um... I guess I'm not as big of one. I mean, I still am, but not in that way."  
"What's that mean?"  
"I'm a nice asshole. I'm the kind that pranks you, not persecutes." You shrugged. You guess that was a good explanation as any. You arrived at Mark's house about a minute later, and you pushed open the door.  
"Up the elevator is my apartment," Mark said. You followed suit into the elevator, then up some floors before you followed him through the hall to his place.  
"Nice, man," you said as you spotted the spiral staircase.  
"Thanks," Mark said, dropping probably his jacket somewhere before closing the door.  
"This place. Is huge." You walked and pointed to the couch, looking over at Mark, who nodded. You sat down and leaned back. "Nice couch, too."  
"Is everything nice to you about me?" You shrugged.  
"I don't know. Probably. I don't have stuff like this at home." Mark shrugged and joined you on the couch. You watched him sit down, then kept watching him. He raised an eyebrow.  
"What?" he asked. You clicked your tongue.  
"It's this thing I've always thought about when I, like, look at people," you explained. "Whenever I look at someone, I always try to imagine them as the opposite gender. So, like, what would you look like as a girl?"  
"No idea." You sighed, waving at hand at him.  
"A wig, maybe a decent bra. You'd look pretty cool." Mark laughed aloud.  
“Alright, then,” he said, nodding. “Hey, uh, I had a question, though.” You nodded. “So, why did you decide to be genderfluid? I mean, I’m just curious.” You pressed your mouth into a thin line, thinking. “Sorry.”  
“No, no, it’s fine, man,” you told him, putting up a hand. “I guess... Well, I always liked boy stuff rather than girl stuff before. Then when I started wearing girl stuff again, it got me thinking, you know. ‘Being a girl is really nice, but being a guy is nice, too. Is there even a word for this?’” You laughed, causing Mark to chuckle lightly. “So I looked it up, and I saw, like, genderqueer and transgender and all of these terms. Bigender was one option, but it wasn’t that I wanted to be both at the same time. I wanted to be each one, but I only felt girly some days and boyish others. So I decided, ‘Hey! I’m going to be genderfluid!’ So that’s how I got a few of my friends to call me male pronouns for when I was male, and female when I was female. My parents didn’t approve, and I had to borrow binders from my friends. Which brings me to now. I’ve been genderfluid since I was fifteen and look at me now.”  
“Fifteen?” he repeated. You nodded. “And you’re still getting crap for that?” You nodded again.  
“I’m fairly new to LA, though. No one knows me yet.” He shrugged.  
“Still. That guy at the gas station was a dick. It was like... I don’t know how to describe it. It was bad.”  
“I know. I’m used to it, though.” You rubbed your hands together and stretched. “Sometimes, though, I just break for a little bit, and that’s okay. It helps.” Mark nodded. Then he laughed. “What?”  
“Nothing. Just didn’t expect this to get so deep,” he explained, adjusting himself. You laughed at him.  
“Hashtag deep,” you joked, making him laugh even more. Your eyes wavered to the television, then to the Xbox that sat under it. “You’ve got an Xbox?” He joined your gaze.  
“Yeah.” He sat straight and nodded at it. “You want to play some?” You grinned.  
“Sure, man. You have a puzzle game?” Mark hummed for a moment as he dropped to the floor, going to look at his games.  
“I do!” he said triumphantly, pulling out Tetris: Evolution. “Do you like Tetris?” You nodded, and he tossed you a controller. “Onwards!” He turned on the Xbox and took his place beside you, starting up the game. You eyed him and he caught it. “What?”  
“Nothing,” you said. “Thanks for understanding, Mark.” He grinned and pulled off your cap, putting it on his own head.  
“Don’t mention it.”


End file.
